When I stepped out of the shower one morning in Beaune, I was in mid-towel off when I spotted something pink on the floor. It only took a second for me to realize what it was.
Remember that volcano in Bali that we climbed four months ago?
Well, my two big toenails have been black ever since and Iâ€™ve been keeping the ugly things covered with some pretty pink nail polish. (The Tux in the Backpack was more right than he knew when he called my blog, a pink approach to Flashpacking)
I guess the moment was inevitable â€“ but I was still pretty freaked out by it. I immediately emailed my friend Cindy who had lost a toenail while we were training for the Honolulu marathon in 2002 and she was very reassuring about itâ€™s re-growth as well as my ability to still function normally.
It is a very strange sensation to be able to touch the skin on your toe that is usually protected by the nail.
I lost the other nail in Marseille â€“ so I guess I really did leave a little piece of me behind in France. Two little pieces actually.